“I can’t have you arrested for murder in England, Georgie,” Prudence tsked. “Far too much paperwork, and I bore easily.”
A smile cracked Georgie’s normally very placid face. “I’d claim that it went off accidentally. Silly me.”
“You don’t sound convincing.” Prudence paced. Mr. Morgan didn’tfeelright. She and Gregory had analyzed men like him before, when trying to judge which investments to make. Who was a confidence man and who was a legitimate businessman who wouldn’t take their money and run?
Mr. Morgan had some elements of the trademark shiftiness—an overly formal, obsequious way of speaking. But was that just part of being English in a way she didn’t understand? He had acted as if he could only hope for her help, rather than showing triumph when she agreed to make contact in the future. She couldn’t see how he would benefit, but that was the way with confidence men. They tried to make it seem like they wouldn’t gain anything, to pull you into the scheme all the more.
“I hate to make you uncomfortable, Mrs. Cabot, but I will be accompanying you on your outings today.” Georgie was a solid girl. A farm girl. One of those from mixed-up bloodline families that had helped birth a calf when the calf was bigger than she was. Prudence admired her.
“Will you be bringing the derringer along as well?” Prudence asked.
“It is,” Georgie said, solemn as a funeral, “in my professional opinion, the best chaperone in the world.”
“I’d like to wait and call upon Mrs. Moon at proper visiting hours,” Prudence said, the clock dinging once as it struck thirty minutes past nine. “But I’m so knotted up over this, I don’t think I can.”
“Then we’ll walk slow,” Georgie suggested, as if that wasn’t what she did every day of the week.
They ambled, taking the long ways, winding through side streets Prudence had never bothered to explore. Still, Prudence was so anxious, she couldn’t match Georgie’s plodding gait.
It seemed like it took ages to arrive at the Moon residence. Prudence’s stomach turned flips as she composed herself. Georgie stared at her.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” Prudence gave a quick wipe of her cheek with her glove.
Georgie shook her head. “Just wondering what you’re waiting for.”
Prudence huffed. “I feel like I’m out of breath.”
“Take your time,” Georgie said. Which seemed to be the girl’s entire life view.
Prudence took another steadying breath and knocked on the door. The footman opened it, surprised to see young ladies at the doorstep at this early hour.
“Mrs. Cabot,” he greeted. “Mrs. Moon is not available yet this morning.”
Prudence smiled, hating herself on the inside for harrying an old woman. “I understand. But I have a most urgent matter. Perhaps I could come in and wait?”
“Come in, come in,” Leo’s irritated voice echoed through the hallway. “Jeffrey, are you honestly going to make them stand on the doorstep like beggars?”
The footman flung the door open and admitted them both. But after closing the door, he just stood there.
“Take their hats, please, Jeffrey,” Leo said through gritted teeth.
It was so good to just look at Leo. It felt like the ball—only two days prior—had been weeks ago. And she’d not seen him between then and the train platform after the cottage. Her chest ached as she noticed his freshly shaven cheek, knowing what he smelled like, what kind of soap he used, even the feel of the bristles from his shaving brush. Suddenly she felt hollowed out. Must he be so gruff?
“Mrs. Cabot, and Miss er—” Leo trailed off, not remembering Georgie’s last name.
“Miss Pendanski, sir,” Georgie said.
“Delighted. Yes. Perhaps we can talk in my study until my mother is up and about? Jeffrey, fetch us a tray, thank you.” Leo ushered them into the room where Prudence had first met him. Had first let him put his hands on her. Had first felt the rush of pleasure from him.
Instead of going round to his desk, he led them to the sitting area. It was warm enough that there was no fire in the small hearth, and indeed, it had been swept clean for the season. Soon it would be cold enough to require a fire, even for Leo, who seemed impervious to heat or cold.
“Pardon me for being so forward,” Leo said, sitting stiffly on the edge of a chair as Prudence and Georgie sank onto the sofa, where Prudence had once flung her legs open for him to see her in reckless abandon. “But what brings you here at such an early hour?”
“A Mr. Reginald Morgan tracked me down at my hotel.” Prudence watched as Leo recoiled.
His eyes went wide and his gaze immediately went to the door. “Did he follow you?”
“Would he do such a thing?” Prudence asked. It seemed very rude. “I told him to return to my hotel on Friday and I would let him know then if I had found his son.”
